Insufferable.
(begun Monday 25th August at 5.25am)
*edit added at 3.20pm. Since publishing the update below just less than an hour ago, I've been happily catching up on Facebook posts. Until five minutes ago that is, when all of a sardine, the pictures are declining to load on the pages I visit or on my timeline. Could Frederick Cochrane tellus just who is on the monitoring shift at this time of day? Who is the head honcho running the surveillance in our home at 3pm of an afternoon? You're away from home right now, Freddie? Then who did you nominate to 'manage' my activities this arvo, and why the increased mischief on our computer over the past two days? Boredom getting to you all? I see I've lost two or three little vids I had stored in my pics since the weekend. Just the dogs playing on our bed and nothing vital, but it's the idea that someone thinks they can do as they please out there with impunity, is pretty disgusting. Your ex-Tutor again? * (and ten minutes after publishing this latest whine, all pics are loading perfectly. You're beginning to get the idea of the mischief that can be caused with such ease by a nearby quantum 'guardian' or two? Here, you may use this brown paper bag. )

Every now and then I hear the beep of a Road's Department's vehicle out there in the dark, and I figure they've pulled an all-nighter in the scramble to complete whatever nefarious work they're up to, down by the Freeway bridge. Is their deadline set to coincide with the occupation of DUT and DD Project's last block of student apartments? Does a bear shit in the woods?
Every last cent of ratepayer's money is being poured into the quantum monitoring Project and it's like tossing cash into a void, for as fast as they complete one section, they have to come back and make further adjustments.

What is it with my Nemesis and his ongoing game of musical cars? I discovered to my amusement last week that he now employs not one, but two slightly different Landrovers in his forays away from the Chickencoop, and I shouldn't be surprised were there two different black Chevy El Camino type V8 pickup trucks as well.
I'd watched him a few days ago as he'd silently reversed the V8 down the driveway and into the garage ready for a quick take-off, and then he'd gone and fetched the blue Beemer and pulled it in to the garage entrance. His nearby neighbours are regularly treated to the throaty rumble of the V8 when he wishes to announce his departure, but I've seen how quietly that vehicle slides in and out of his gates on other occasions, so I guess it's either the not-so-subliminal messaging at work, or he swops it for a clone of the black Chevy as well.
Who is this additional shiftyness designed to fool, and why? Is he simply following the Spy manual to the letter and taking no chances by providing himself with some sort of alibi each day? At the last count they've had 23 domestic workers employed at No. 6 over the fifteen odd years they've lived next door, and I figure the constant car changes are just another aspect in the life of a not-so-secret Agent?

Surely all the activities on his drive are themselves captured on camera, so just who is he trying to hoodwink here? He is well known in the area as being the Master of Mischief for this stretch, and as such he should surely have absolutely nothing to fear, and he's certainly not going to all that bother for the TwitsRUs Brigade, consisting of me, myself and I, so why the constant swopping of vehicles? The opposition might attempt to take him out? Pfft... Ai, you're a right comic, you are. After all, the CIA, NIA, State Security, and MIwhatsit are all huddled companionably together on this one, make no mistake.

It's possible that he simply attempts to cover his grubby tracks in the event of an 'accident' occurring on his patch. An organised home invasion that could end up with the death of one of his charges, or a house going up in flames due to an over-enthusiastic quantum cadet spiking a carefully chosen jackpoint repeatedly, to which he'd use the cars as some sort of alibi to 'prove' he was nowhere in the vicinity at the time of the incident? Ag, I'm farked if I know what it's all about, but you'd do well to tuck his musical cars routine into the back of your heads just in case his actions are ever called into question in the future. (As if).

It's getting light out and I must go feed the birds before the bees wind themselves into their daily froth on the tray. One of those little buggers had inadvertently crawled up my skirt while I was working out front yesterday, and it had paid for it's temerity with it's life, but not before depositing it's sting in my fat leg. Ouch.

LATER 

I'd tried connecting at 6.30am with no success. The GameWrecker had checked the computer later on and had discovered that it had somehow been reset back to 2011. Once he'd adjusted it back to today's date we were back in business. One of the simpler basic hacks taught to the quantum cadets, Frederick?
Do you all consider your laptops/PC's to be your own private domain? Foolish. If the quantum technology is rigged to your streetlight and Telkom's white wireless boxes adorn the poles in the street, you really should accept that every asset you own is now shared by at least one, if not more, quantum laser/wireless Recruits who has been given the means to fry your electrical goods or drain your batteries, at will.

I'd been raking the leaves up on the verge this morning and had watched as Freddie left and drove away up the street. Was it not long after that, that Narcissus had pulled into No. 16 to do his monitoring shift? You need to ask yourselves if such intense surveillance can be achieved on one 69 year-old Eejit, why is it not being used instead for the GOOD of all the residents on this stretch. Huh?
Peace.

Monday 25th August 2014 at 2.27pm.